A Holiday Moment in Time
by AdmHawthorne
Summary: Regina swings by the sheriff's station to demand Emma do something about Henry. Short, sweet, and very fluffy.


For my friend Eric, aka Allaine. He always inspires me to keep at the things worth enjoying, and I hope he enjoys this work.

Characters aren't mine. They belong to ABC, Disney, and other assorted entities of importance. I gain nothing from writing these stories but the fun of doing it. Please don't sue me.

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><p>"Twenty-three."<p>

"What?" Emma glanced up from the report she's been trying to decipher for half an hour. Her father was amazing at a large range of tasks from sword fighting to caring for sick cats to cooking a mean burger, but a good writer he was not. She sighed, letting the report fall to her desk as she gave her full attention to the brunette standing on the other side.

"That is how many times _your_ son has asked me for the new _Assassin's Creed_ game for that infernal gaming console _you _insisted he receive for his birthday last year." Regina crossed her arms and glared down at the younger woman. "Frankly, I'm not sure what I should be more annoyed with. On one hand, I am _highly_ irritated you've been allowing our 12 year old son to play mature rated games. On the other, Henry's persistence and _stacks_ of reasons, some of which he gathered into a report complete with PowerPoint slides, as to why the game isn't as graphic as the rating would infer has given me the headache from hell." She reached up with one hand to pinch the bridge of her nose as her other hand curled into a fist at her waist. "Whichever may be worse, the end result," she snarled, "is that this is _your_ mess, and _you_ should be the one to fix it."

The sheriff chuckled, leaning back in her chair to get a better look at the other woman. "What? You didn't tell him to wait for Santa?"

"At which point," the older woman slowly closed her eyes, a pained expression crossing her face, "we had to have the conversation about whether or not Santa Clause is _actually_ real."

Emma tilted her head, clearly not getting it. Through squinted eyes, Regina watched the lost puppy dog expression for a few seconds before sighing heavily and giving in. "Because we're all fairytale creatures, Miss Swan."

The younger woman slowly blinked. "But Santa isn't a fairytale character," she stated in confusion.

"Yes, exactly," Regina confirmed, waiting for the blonde to connect the dots.

"So why would Henry think that… oh." Emma frowned, scrunching her face up. "Right… because anyone who is a fictitious person could maybe be real because of the whole different realms thing." Her shoulders visibly dropped as her mind completed the picture. "I guess that means I don't get to play Santa on Christmas Eve, then, huh?"

"No, I'd say not." Dropping her arms, Regina circled the desk to lean against it. "Don't despair, Emma, I didn't tell him what his gifts were, if that is any consolation."

"Only a little." Slumping down a touch in her chair, Emma reached forward to poke at the paperwork somewhat neatly piled in her inbox. "So what do you want me to do?"

Regina shrugged. "Short of telling him what he's getting for Christmas, I have no idea. What I do know is that he's driving me to distraction, and there's very little in the way of counter arguments I can give him for why he _shouldn't_ receive the gifts he's asking for. After all, he _has_ in fact been a remarkable young man for the past few years."

"True. You have to hand it to the kid. He's probably at the top of Santa's 'Nice' list. I mean, look at all the crap he's gone through, and he's still a good guy." The younger woman's eyes shot up, growing large. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded, Regina."

"Even if you had, it would have been fine." The brunette sighed. This time, it was more tired than frustrated. "Our son has a remarkable capacity to love, forgive, and care." She gave a small smile. "He's an amazing young man."

"That doesn't give him a free pass to be a jerk, though." The blonde stood up, snatching her phone off the desk as she went. "Everything may have finally settled down, and we all may be getting along now, but that doesn't give him a free ride to hound you for presents."

"Still, I'd rather deal with our son being annoying than yet another powerful being come to destroy my happiness, the town, Gold, or some combination of the three. At least with Henry, we can always send him to his room to make him behave."

"Or ground him from gaming for a week. That worked for me when we were in New York." Reaching out, Emma placed her hand on Regina's cheek, warmly smiling when the other woman leaned into her touch. "I'll talk to him."

"Thank you," Regina replied in relief. "I really don't know how much more I can take."

"I'll also remind him that his mother is human, despite how most people still see her, and maybe he should lay off once in a while." Place a gentle kiss on the brunette's cheek, Emma turned to head for the door. "Want me to grab anything for dinner since I'm going to pick the kid up from Archie's?"

"No. Well…" Regina rolled her eyes at herself. "If you get the chance, we're almost out of ice cream, so, if you could pick some…"

"Ice cream. Got it." Emma smirked. "We'll get a few gallons on the way home."

"_A _gallon, Emma," Regina warned.

"Right _a _gallon of chocolate, _a _gallon of butter pecan, _a_ gallon of…" Continuing to list off ice cream flavors, Emma quickly exited the station leaving the older woman standing alone beside the sheriff's desk.

"They're going to be wired all night," she mumbled to herself. With a self-defeated chuckle, she strode out of the station and onto her next appointment for the day.


End file.
